


If You Can't Beat 'Em, Well....

by Prinxe_Procrastinate



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: AU- Fantasy Creatures, Dragon/Demon Hanzo Shimada, Gen, Overwatch and Talon are completely different from canon, Tags subject to change/growth, Things get a little complicated to explain on how they deviate from canon, Werewolf Jesse McCree
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-29 21:39:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8506543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prinxe_Procrastinate/pseuds/Prinxe_Procrastinate
Summary: Jesse McCree never really liked those stories about those magical, mythical creatures that're always drifting around. Sure, they might be real, but if it ain't bothering him, he isn't gonna worry himself.Then again, he doesn't have a choice.





	

Jesse didn’t expect the bite, or the lack of pain as he went down, only aware of the warm, moist breath on his neck as he struggled weakly against the weight pressing down on him, on his chest, on his stomach, on his legs, on the red that is his arms, that was his arms? He couldn’t tell anymore, his thoughts fuzzy and his vision going black, blurring around the edges as his consciousness faded.

When he woke, he was in a hospital, laying on the white bed in the sterile room smelling of sour medications. The fight had been quick, he knew, but he couldn’t tell how long he’d been in the hospital under the influence of heavy drugs. How could he tell that they were heavy drugs? Maybe it was the sluggish feeling floating through his body, making it difficult to take inventory of his wounds, or what’s left of his body, if it got that bad.

It was difficult to hear the blurry nurse as she spoke to him. Muffled as if she were talking through a pillow and right into the cotton stuffed in his head and mouth. How drugged up had he been? He couldn’t really tell right now. All he knew was that he couldn’t use his left hand to dismiss the nurse, and that his right arm was completely immobile. Why couldn’t he use his arms correctly?

When he woke up again, he was much more conscious, less disabled. Everything was much clearer, but he’ll look back on this day and tell you he can’t remember a thing despite the feeling of clarity interrupted by a sudden panic. He can tell you that the panic was because he’d realized that bastard had torn his arm up so much even the doctors couldn’t save it. The only reason he got a replacement was because when he walked into his safe house, the landowner had been appalled and shoved money into Jesse’s hands, practically yelling at him to go buy himself a decent prosthetic.

Now, though, he misses those days where his safe houses had been safe and the landowners had been kind, back when his friends had been real and he hadn’t needed a partner to watch his back. He misses the days when he didn’t have to worry about the moon cycles, when he didn’t have to keep an eye on the moon in the sky and the feeling in his gut.

He really does appreciate Hanzo Shimada, he really does. Unfortunately, he’s been forced to keep his... problem a secret from the Japanese man. That incident so long ago only makes more and more problems as he ages, driving a rift between him and his only partner that he’s trusted since his old pack had broken up.

“McCree, what are you doing?”

One of the most common things he hears Hanzo say, these days, each time he catches the gunslinger trying to sneak out of camp or the old cabins they hole up in. “I’m just headin’ out, Hanzo. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.”

The dragon trapped in a demon’s body glares at Jesse, stopping him in his tracks. “McCree, you’ve been sneaking out at least two nights a month since before we’ve met. I have read the reports. When will you stop lying to me?”

“Aw, Hanzo, c’mon. I’m just gonna head out to track a lead I just got,” Jesse says, waving his phone around vaguely, the screen off, not even giving Hanzo a glance at the supposed lead. “I’ll be back within the week, promise.”

“Jesse McCree, I expect you to return with your clothes intact and all of your limbs attached to your body,” Hanzo says with a stronger glare, almost like he’s trying to burn a hole through Jesse’s poorly-constructed lies with his milky white eyes. “If you return with a single hair missing from your beard, I will interrogate you on where you have been.”

“Deal, Hanzo. Stay out of trouble while I’m gone.”

All he gets in response is a snort. As the door closes behind him, Hanzo stealthily rises to his feet, climbing out of the cabin window, disappearing into the forest surrounding them. No matter how much Jesse McCree claims to be a normal human, Hanzo knows he isn’t. There is no normal human who would willingly befriend a dragon trapped as Hanzo is. There is no human who would befriend monsters like Gabriel Reyes and Mako Rutledge.

Whatever Jesse McCree is doing, Hanzo is determined to find out why it’s been kept secret from everyone for so long. Even Angela, the doctor who cares for everyone in the ragtag group fighting for equality, doesn’t know why he insists on being alone every month. The number of creatures who experience something once a month is too large for them to even assume a possible creature Jesse could be.

It takes a good hour until Jesse stops in a clearing in the woods. As Hanzo watches, the other man strips down, sitting on the grass wearing nothing but his hat, tugging on the lip of the silly cowboy accessory. Not even five minutes later, the moon begins to shine into the clearing. Jesse freezes, lowering his hands from his hat and resting them in the grass. Hanzo, concealed high in the branches of a nearby tree, watches as Jesse’s hair begins to lengthen, sprouting more and more hair over the course of a few seconds. Within the minute, Jesse is considerably more furry, and a tail and ears have sprouted.

Jesse McCree is a werewolf.

Near the end of the second minute of his transformation, Jesse’s head whips toward Hanzo, more wolf-like than human. Hanzo can barely see the moment when Jesse finishes transforming; it’s only when Jesse begins to run toward Hanzo’s tree that the archer realizes that his partner no longer bears any resemblance to a human, the cowboy hat forgotten on the grass near the pile of clothes.

Hanzo flees his tree, retreating to the cabin to await the gunslinger's return. He'll let Jesse speak when he's ready; he wouldn't want to scare away his partner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this is pretty short; I'm trying to get myself into the habit of writing, so the chapters are going to be pretty short until I'm comfortable writing more. Constructive criticism is always welcome!


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